


New Year's Day

by natisrapunzel



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Flirting, M/M, New Year's Eve, New Year's Kiss, Oikawa POV, Sexual Tension, acquaintences to lovers, like a lot of sexual tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 08:30:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17220470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/natisrapunzel/pseuds/natisrapunzel
Summary: Oikawa Tooru expected to lonely and bitter surrounded by blissfully happy couples at Daichi's New Years Eve Party. He didn't expect to reconnect with his attractive former rival and be left grasping for composure at the other setter's flirty comments and annoyingly entrancing makeup. Had he finally met his match, or was he just intoxicated on shots and the promise of the new year?





	New Year's Day

Oikawa Tooru was having a miserable night.

He wiped the disgusting line of sweat from his forehead off with the sleeve of his black sheer crop-top. If Daichi ever disentangled himself from his girlfriend on the dance floor, he would have some choice words for the former captain about the level of heating in his apartment. Scowling, Tooru scanned the room for the host in question. Sure enough, he found Daichi and Michimiya within seconds, dancing in the center of a small cluster of tipsy ex-Karasuno players and university students. Even in the dingy lighting, he could see too much of their sexual dancing than he ever wanted to see.

Abruptly looking away, his eyes narrowed further when he caught sight of Yahaba and Kyotani in the throng of sweaty dancers. His first shock of betrayal for his kouhais dancing in the company of their rivals turned to horror as he watched Yahaba back into his teammate’s embrace and begin grinding with almost as much vigor as Karasuno’s captain had been demonstrating all night. Tooru’s jaw dropped. What were they doing?! No one had informed him of any romantic relationship between the two of them! He had half a mind to march up to them and have them explain themselves, remind them that their alcohol intake was likely impacting their decisions, but the sight of Kyotani’s hands gingerly massaging Yahaba’s sides made Tooru stop cold. He could tolerate drunken nonsense, but that sentimental touch sent a spear into his heart. If he had to witness this vile display between his teammates any longer, he was going to be ill. He whirled around so his back faced the dancing and scowled at the rest of the party in front of him.

Sloshing the remainder of his third (fifth?) drink around in his cup, Tooru sneered at the rest of the partygoers. He noticed that Karasuno’s former ace, Asahi Azumane, looked disastrously out of place awkwardly leaning against the fridge in a maroon cardigan and khakis. His outfit sharply contrasted against the near disco ball hanging off of his chest in the form of Karasuno’s libero—Nishinoya, if Tooru remembered—who was wearing a long-sleeved shirt completely covered in silver sequins, as well as purple pants that Tooru was very envious of. He was practically wrapped around Azumane, Tooru thought bitterly. Their closeness was made even more apparent by the brightness emanating from the tiny libero’s chest. The intense sparkles illuminated for the entire party the depth of their lovestruck expressions as they looked at each other intensely, whispering back and forth in their own little world. Tooru averted his gaze, suddenly fascinated with a patch of Daichi’s floor. Why was everyone so disgustingly in love tonight?

It probably added to his bitterness that his only reason for attending this traitorous shindig had betrayed him to pursue his own romantic interests. Tooru couldn’t restrain himself from glancing down the hall (again) to see if Iwa-chan and his latest crush had reappeared. The empty hallway left Tooru feeling something similar. Admittedly, Tooru had known about Iwa’s infatuation with Emika when Iwa invited him to Daichi’s New Years party, where she, as wing spiker on the university’s team with Michimiya, would surely be attending. However, he didn’t think that Iwa would all but abandon him to awkwardly stammer out a conversation with her somewhere that Tooru couldn’t eavesdrop. At least, he assumed that’s what was happening, given what he’d witnessed of Iwa-chan’s attempts at flirting. His expression darkened, and his eyes wandered to the blaring red lights of the oven clock, reading 11:38. So maybe Iwa had been gone longer than his usual attempts. That didn’t mean he was doing anything different. Moreover, it didn’t mean that Oikawa felt some strange sense of jealousy if he was getting action. Nothing like that at all.

Tooru’s stomach dropped, and not from his alcohol intake. The numbers burned against his eyes again. In a few minutes, he would have to watch all of these annoyingly happy couples turn to each other with sparkling, barely-sober eyes. He didn’t know why this bothered him so much. Maybe it was because he hadn’t connected with anyone romantically since high school. Even those seemed to him almost too superficial to consider relationships. He knew he was good-looking—he could’ve found someone random to kiss if that was all he wanted. But he craved a deeper connection than that. Maybe he had been naïve in thinking that he might meet someone he could mesh with at a party with college athletes and his washed-up rivals. That didn’t make him feel any less empty thinking of the upcoming kiss that he wouldn’t receive. He looked at Azumane and Nishinoya, still talking quietly in the painfully noisy apartment. They would start the new year off with a kiss with someone important to them, and Tooru would be alone.

He downed the rest of his drink in one gulp. The liquid burned the back of his throat, but he didn’t feel any differently—if anything, the gesture made him painfully aware of how sober he was. Tooru grimaced. If he had to stomach the sight of so many couples sucking face so soon, he had to get more alcohol in him. Determined, he staggered from his spot on the wall to the kitchen counter, nearly tripping over discarded chip dip and party hats. He rolled his eyes when he spotted forgotten pairs of 2019 glasses at his feet. Clearly, alcohol was the only way to save his evening.

Turning away from the party, he began pouring vodka and lemonade into his solo cup. He was just tipping in some extra drops when some large weight jostled his side, making some of the vodka spill on the table. Tooru’s scowl deepened, but at half-speed because of his slowed motor skills. “Rude, I was gonna drink that,” he mumbled to himself.

“There’s still most of the handle left,” a sing-song voice chirped, evidently the perpetrator of his spill. Tooru turned his head so he could see the source of warm body still half-leaning against his side, only to nearly recoil in surprise. He found himself face-to-face with Mr. Refreshing, who was grinning wider and more red-faced than Tooru had ever seen him in a game.

His eyes roved over his former rival’s form against his will and left him embarrassingly speechless. Like Tooru, he clearly had gone all-out in terms of eye-catching attire. He was wearing a sequined pale-pink top tucked into high-rise black jeans that were sinfully tight. To top it off, his arms and face were dusted with pink glitter. Tooru’s breath caught as he noticed the darker shades of glitter decorating most of his cheek, and how the pattern swirled and highlighted his natural beauty mark. If he wasn’t mistaken, Tooru thought he was wearing mascara and eyeliner as well. He didn’t remember the setter being this...attractive. He also didn’t remember him being this tall. He recalled that Mr. Refreshing had been on the shorter side of Karasuno; however, because of his boots, he realized, the setter stood nearly even in height to Tooru. He blamed this imbalance as the source of his discomfort at Mr. Refreshing’s proximity.

“Why so silent? Crow got your tongue?” Mr. Refreshing smirked at him. Tooru’s eyes widened, but for some reason, still couldn’t get his mouth to function properly. He tried to stammer a response, but the silver-haired man waved him off, fixing him to be silent again with another aggravatingly knowing smile. “Unless you’re still upset about the vodka. Here, let me clean it up for you.”

Without another word, Mr. Refreshing was suddenly leaning across the counter to wipe up the spill, coincidentally leaning more into Oikawa’s space. Tooru stood frozen as he felt a whisper of his leg, torso, and ass brush against him. His heart sped up uncontrollably at the touch. Should he step away? Or was he doing this on purpose? Before he could over-analyze the situation, he was pulling back, meeting Oikawa’s gaze with a mirthful glint in his eyes. Tooru’s stomach dropped.

“You didn’t have to—” Tooru began, but Mr. Refreshing spoke at the same time, asking, “What were you drinking?”

Tooru’s gaze dropped to the cup. In comparison to his rival next to him, the murky liquid seemed completely destitute of value. “Lemonade and vodka,” he said.

Mr. Refreshing’s responding look was made of trouble. “I didn’t know Aoba Johsai was that weak,” he chided. He paused, then started to giggle, his cheeks turning a deeper shade of red.

Tooru ignored the way his chest hurt at the sound of his laugh and focused on his hurt pride. He didn’t know what game the setter was playing with him, with odd smirks and teasing, but he wasn’t about to lose to his former rival. He had some dignity. “I can drink anything, any time. Want me to prove it to you?”

His companion’s eyes practically sparkled in the crappy apartment lighting. He giggled again, and Tooru nearly had a heart attack. However, the moment was forgotten in the next second as Mr. Refreshing pulled out a flask from his back pocket. Tooru watched as he poured the murky brown liquid into two solo cups, filling them with a shot’s amount. He handed the plastic cup to Tooru like a fragile, important object, and his chest felt oddly tight.

“Alright. Let’s do shots, then,” Mr. Refreshing chirped, sounding much more innocent than his expression told.

“Fine,” Tooru snapped. He held his cup so he could barely see over the rim. They made eye contact for a second before both downing the liquid. Tooru’s eyes burned as it hit—he preferred heavy liquor mixed with something for a reason—but had too much pride to show how it affected him. Cockily, he set the empty cup on the counter. He stared down Mr. Refreshing, who was grinning at him cheekily for God knows why. Tooru didn’t know what to make of his actions, but was too tipsy and competitive to think about it deeply at the moment. He nodded to the cup, and Mr. Refreshing’s eyebrows rose.

“Eager for more?” he asked. His voice was teasing and Tooru hated how it rendered him tongue-tied. Instead of verbally answering, he smirked back at his flirtatious companion. He wasn’t the only one with romantic charm.

“If you can handle it,” he sang back. It could’ve been the light, but he swore he saw Mr. Refreshing’s cheeks darken at his comment. Emboldened, he continued, touching his forearm as he poured the shot of rum into his cup. He felt him stiffen underneath him, but he met his gaze unflinchingly. “I can have more than that.”

Tooru was caught unprepared for his rival to pout at him in response. “Aw, can’t have that now. I’ve got to keep track of how much you drink to make sure you don’t go over your limit.” Tooru froze as he patted his cheek like a mother patting her child. He then withdrew his touch, shaking his head and giggling down at Tooru’s drink.

Tooru’s cheeks were on fire as he took the cup out of Mr. Refreshing’s grip. Damn him! He swallowed the next shot and couldn’t hold in the wince this time around. Worse, he was definitely feeling woozier than before. It was shit timing, as he wanted desperately to redeem himself at looking suave in front of his rival setter. He narrowed his eyes as he watched Mr. Refreshing daintily wipe his mouth with the back of his hand, filling his cup with another round of shots as if they weren’t affecting him at all. Tooru never hated or admired someone more. He had to best him!

“Would you like—oh dear.” Mr. Refreshing was looking at him now with an expression that Tooru didn’t recognize. His heart plummeted in his chest as the silver-haired man took a step towards him. It stopped beating completely as his delicate fingers coaxed his own callused ones off of their grip on his solo cup. “I think that’s enough for you.”

Tooru sneered. He tried to think of witty comebacks or something suave to say, but accidentally blurted out, “You’re not my mom. Don’t tell me what to do.”

His face lit up, and Tooru’s chest constricted. The amount joy in his eyes should’ve been illegal! Tooru wanted to look away it was so nauseating. But it got worse—he began to giggle again, so intensely Tooru worried that his mouth was going to break. He briefly thought that would be a shame. He had never noticed what a pretty mouth he had.

Eventually, he stopped giggling and reached out, placing a hand on Tooru’s upper arm. His gaze dropped to stare at the point of contact, even as Mr. Refreshing began to speak to him. “You’re right, I can’t. I’m just trying to help. And I’m being a little selfish.” His giggles snapped Tooru out of his trance, and he glanced up at his companion, only to be find himself trapped by his smirk.

He continued, “Doing shots with you is fun, but I don’t want you to be drunk.” Then, he pulled gently on Tooru’s arm. Without resisting, Tooru let himself tumble forward until he and Mr. Refreshing were merely inches apart. He could smell the alcohol on his breath as he whispered, “I want to see much I can fluster you without you being wasted.”

Tooru blinked back at him. Annoyingly, he was aware that his mouth had parted in surprise, something that the setter was sure to take some sick pride in. Sure enough, he watched Mr. Refreshing’s eyes travel down to his mouth, twinkling and looking very dangerous. Suddenly Tooru realized the nature of his game was very different than he had first perceived. And despite his competitive nature and typical suave bravado, he realized that in this situation, with those mirthful eyes trained on him, he was absolutely fucked.

Mr. Refreshing’s responding giggle interrupted his realization. Tooru stared at him, with his flaming cheeks and dazzling eyes, and cursed himself for being so transfixed. But he was flirting with him—that seemed painfully obvious now. However, Tooru didn’t know what the setter expected would come out of this. He was very open about his bisexuality, but had never been in a long relationship with a man. He didn’t even know for certain who Mr. Refreshing was attracted to. Moreover—he realized with a jolt—he didn’t even know his given name, despite playing each other for three years. Sober Tooru may have subtly offered to exchange social media platforms, learning his name without embarrassing himself, but tipsy Tooru had a one-track mind, which was currently being dominated by the silver-haired setter smiling up at him.

“What’s your name?” He asked, cocking his head slightly. His voice sounded disjointed out loud, like a cartoon version of himself. He hoped that Mr. Refreshing didn’t notice and declare him too drunk to tease. He realized with a start how desperate he was for him to stay talking to him.

His rival’s brief blink was the only indicator that he was startled by Tooru’s blunt question. Tooru had worried he would come across as rude for not remembering, but was too tipsy to find out any other way. However, his answering grin rid Tooru of any former guilt.

He sighed over-dramatically, a sound eerily mocking of Tooru’s usual behavior. “Ah…here I was, thinking that I was reconnecting with an old rival. Alas, he never even noticed me.”

“I noticed you,” Tooru stated robotically. He hated this! He was used to being the teasing one that left his partner wanting more, but with just a few phrases, Mr. Refreshing left him nearly begging! Who was he?

The silver-haired setter smirked at his affirmation. Tooru used all of his will to keep his mouth firmly shut, half-pouting with his shred of control of his motor skills. His expression only deepened Mr. Refreshing’s smile, and Tooru felt a jolt of fear. “Maybe I shouldn’t tell you. I could make you earn it.”

Tooru didn’t like the sound of that at all. At least, he thought he did with the way his stomach sank at the insinuation. With horror, however, he realized that a part of him did enjoy the idea, or at least, was very curious as to what he had in mind. He was so intrigued and confused that he failed yet again at coming up with a smooth response. Mr. Refreshing just giggled as he stammered, and the sound hit him like a knife to his gut. Then his expression mellowed into a gentle smile, depriving Tooru of any remaining brain functions.

“You can call me Suga,” he said gently. He was looking at him with an achingly soft expression. The low lighting reflected off of the glitter dotting his cheeks, and Tooru was enraptured. In that moment, Suga looked almost like an angel.

However, the mask fell in the next second, when Suga pulled back from Tooru. His eyes bulged as he watched Suga’s eyes rove over his body, his expression growing more and more impure as they traced over his very exposed form in his crop-top and skinny jeans. Tooru’s jaw fell slack against his will. He didn’t have the power in him to feel embarrassed when he was utterly at the mercy of Suga’s stare. The setter finally met his gaze again, and his smirk made Tooru’s cheeks burn. “And I certainly noticed you, Oikawa Tooru.”

Tooru’s brain short-circuited. He knew this was his chance for a snazzy comeback, some flirtatious comment to make Suga just as flustered. However, his mind was paralyzed from the alcohol and Suga’s twinkling hazel eyes.

Noticing his speechlessness, Suga’s smile only grew, which sent Tooru’s heart into overdrive. “I also remember you being a lot more talkative back then,” Suga said knowingly.

Tooru scowled. Suga’s teasing snapped him out of his lovestruck reverie and invigorated him to tease back. “I also remember you being a lot less of an outrageous flirt. I thought you liked being a good role model for your kouhais?”

“I am,” Suga said with a wink that felt like a bullet to Tooru’s chest. “Using my charms to stun the enemy. I would be proud if they did the same.”

“We’re still enemies, then?” He cocked his head innocently as he asked. He crossed his arms over his chest, high enough so he knew his muscles were on full display. “Here I thought you were warming up to me.” His words fell from his lips without a shred of thought. Thankfully, they were smoother than his earlier stammers. He had half a hope that he was redeeming himself in this flirtatious war. He wanted to give Suga a taste of his own medicine, to show how evenly matched their charms were once he got a hold of himself.   
Suga’s answering smile was tight-lipped, consciously not giving Tooru the satisfaction. However, the brunette caught the other setter’s brief glance at his arms and was filled with a sense of victory. “Maybe if you kept those sweet lips shut. I’m thinking I like you better that way.”

Tooru bristled, and Suga’s grin grew at the sight. He reached up and patted his cheek again. “Just like that, babe. We’ll get along just fine if you keep doing that.”

His cheeks had become infernos. How the hell was he supposed to respond to that? Also, who knew that Mr. Refreshing was such a raging sadist? And why was it working so well on him?   
“I think you want me to shut up because you know you couldn’t handle it if I spoke, sweetheart,” Tooru leered, leaning against the counter to enhance his bravado. Also, the position brought him slightly closer into Suga’s space, which was important to make the silver-haired man more flustered. Not at all because he felt drawn to Suga with an unbreakable tether. He continued to flirt, nearly whispering, “If I shut up, you wouldn’t have to act indifferent when I say that you’re absolutely gorgeous.”

“I’m swooning,” Suga deadpanned, but Tooru saw his eyes sparkle in their close proximity. “I never said I had a problem with hearing your voice. I just prefer hearing it when you’re responding to me.”

Tooru’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head. That was…certainly a visual. His mind was wandering to very sinful places at his insinuation, yet Suga was grinning up at him like he was a goddamn angel.

“Who the hell are you?” Tooru heard himself ask. Suga erupted into giggles, meeting his glare with an annoyingly peachy smile.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Suga sing-songed, leaning far closer to Oikawa’s face than necessary. When his nose grazed Tooru’s, he stopped, his eyelids drooping as if he was suddenly shy. After all of his flirtations, Tooru didn’t buy it, but was transfixed nonetheless by the mixture of gold and brown in his eyes and the glitter dusting his cheekbones. Suga was a beautiful menace—a dangerous competitor in far more than volleyball. He was snarky, teasing, and aggravatingly captivating, but sweet and kind, and looking at Tooru with an unreadable expression. He realized with a start that he did want to know how Suga could be all of those things, and wanted to learn more and more as long as possible.

“Yeah,” Tooru breathed out, unashamed of the desperation lacing his voice. He watched Suga’s eyes widen slightly before his eyes unconsciously dropped to his lips. “Yeah, I would.”

He flicked his eyes back up to meet Suga’s and realized instantly that he’d been caught. His rival’s eyes shone with accomplishment, to which Tooru was annoyed, but he caught something else in Suga’s gaze that seemed softer, buried underneath the flirtatious exterior. The silver-haired man seemed to be asking Tooru a thousand questions with his eyes, to which Tooru tried his best to respond—yes. Suga seemed to get the message. Gingerly, he reached up and cupped Tooru’s cheek with his right hand. When Tooru didn’t withdraw from the touch (moreover, leaned into it), Suga tugged on his chin gently. Tooru let himself be led, his nose skimming Suga’s in earnest, and—

“TEN—NINE—EIGHT—”

The two jumped at the shouts, Oikawa pulling back to his full height. He briefly looked at the scene around him—glimpses of his teammates and classmates pairing up or preparing streamers—when his gaze shot back to Suga. “SEVEN!” His hand was still on his cheek. Tooru’s chest clenched when Suga turned back to look at him, the glitter dancing in the apartment lightning. “SIX!” He knew he probably looked wrecked and desperate, but for once in his life, Tooru didn’t care. Suga was looking at him in a similar way—unspoken questions seemed to overflow in his gaze. “FIVE!” Tooru placed his left hand over Suga’s on his cheek, savoring how the other setter’s eyes widened in understanding. His eyes fell to Suga’s lips again, then back to his caring gaze. “FOUR!” The rest of the party screamed. Tooru leaned closer. “Is this okay?” He asked over the noise.

“THREE!” Suga giggled in his face, as if to say, what am I going to do with you? He wove his fingers in Tooru’s hair and nodded. They screamed, “TWO!” Suga yelled, “Shut up!” Then, quieter, “I do, too.”

“ONE!”

Tooru let Suga tilt his face down and tried not to smile as their lips met. Around them, the screaming turned to white noise as his senses were overwhelmed by the feeling of Suga’s lips on his, Suga against him. Suga was everything. His deft setter hands were turning the remaining parts of Tooru’s brain to mush as they tugged on his hair, drawing him deeper into the kiss. His lips were softer than Tooru had imagined, but insistent, turning their first semi-innocent kiss into more intense as they continued to embrace. Tooru wrapped his arms around Suga, his hands coming to rest on Suga’s hips. Blindly, he felt for his belt loops, and when he found them, tugged his body closer against Tooru’s. He faintly heard Suga make a small noise at the increased contact, but it was drowned in the sounds of the party and another consuming kiss. Suga flung his free arm around Tooru’s neck, using the position to pull Tooru closer to his slightly-shorter height. Tooru was more than willing to comply. He was chasing Suga’s lips desperately, as if he needed their kiss to survive. He felt Suga’s tongue press against his lips gently and tightened his grip on Suga’s waist. Opening his mouth, he nearly moaned as Suga began to kiss him deeper. They kissed like that for mere seconds before Suga was drawing back, tapping his nose against Oikawa’s cheek. 

The look in Suga’s eyes made Tooru’s stomach drop. “Let’s not do this here.”

Somehow, Tooru thought of something suave to say. He raised an eyebrow at Suga. “Do what here? Chat about the weather?”

Suga giggled back before proceeding to pepper kisses on Tooru’s jaw. He reached the top of his neck before he shifted slightly, kissing the hollow of his ear before whispering, “We could go to my room.”

Tooru felt the blood rush out of his head. He had forgotten who Daichi’s suitemate was. It was so easy, just a few feet away, and the things Suga was doing to his neck were getting him more worked up than he had been in a long time. Still, a part of him hesitated. As aggravating as his former rival had been, he realized that he didn’t want this to just be a one-night stand. He wanted to ask, was about to, when Suga nibbled gently on his ear, and he lost all rational thoughts. Biting his lip to contain his moan, he nodded, and in the next second, Suga was dragging him down the hall.

As eager as they both were, it took them a long time to reach Suga’s bedroom. Every few feet, they would get stopped by the advances of the other, yet another competition that Tooru felt unable to secure the upper hand in. Even now, at the doorway, Tooru had pressed Suga against the locked door from behind as the other setter fumbled for the handle. He was pleased at his ability to distract him with kisses on his neck and his agile fingers massaging his torso, as Suga’s quiet whines were telling him. However, in the next second, Suga broke free from Tooru’s grip. Before the brunette even blinked, Suga had flipped him around, gripping his wrists with irritating strength and pinning them above his head. He briefly caught Suga’s victorious smirk before Suga was on him again. Tooru’s eyes shut as Suga attacked his neck, kissing and sucking until he reached his collarbone. Suga’s mouth was good at more than just talking, Tooru couldn’t help but think as he moaned in response to Suga reaching a particularly sensitive spot. Remembering Suga’s earlier comment, he internally cursed himself for giving him the satisfaction of possibly being correct about the best use of his voice. However, the thought was forgotten as Suga brought his mouth back to Tooru’s and began kissing him earnestly.

Then, just as quickly, he pulled away, their lips making a smacking noise at the loss of contact. He moved one hand to the doorknob, but kept Tooru’s wrists together with his other, even when Tooru strained to break free. Suga just fixed him with an impish grin. Wordlessly, he turned the handle and pulled Tooru in to his room behind him. Tooru blinked, trying to take in his surroundings in the darkness. He saw the outline of a poster, an overflowing bedside table, and the bed—the moving figures on the bed—

Suga went still next to him as they both realized what they had walked in on. In the dim lighting, Tooru could barely make out the couple as they moved together. One—or both—made a noise, and Suga tripped backwards, pulling himself and Tooru towards the door. The brunette was frozen in shock. He numbly watched one figure pull the other closer for a kiss by tugging his spiky hair. Suddenly Tooru’s blood ran cold. He’d recognize that bad hairdo anywhere!

“Iwa!” He gasped.

Instantly, he slapped his hand over his mouth, willing his outburst back inside him. But it was too late. Iwa and Emika’s forms had gone rigid, facing where he and Suga stood at the doorway. Tooru backed into Suga, attempting to flee, but Suga only pulled him to his chest and giggled. He ruffled the brunette’s hair, giggling harder. “You are smooth,” he conceded sarcastically.

The light flicked on, and Iwa was suddenly looming in front of them, squinting at the pair while his eyes adjusted to the light. When they focused, Tooru saw them widen slightly as he took in Suga’s arms around Tooru. His eyes met Tooru’s, and they both exploded at the same time.  
Iwa said, “What the hell are you doing here?” while Tooru yelled, “Why are you in Suga’s room?”

They flinched at the other’s outburst. Next to him, Tooru could feel Suga giggling again. His cheer was a sharp contrast to the way Iwa was scowling at him. Tooru’s eyebrows rose as he noticed how swollen Iwa’s lips were as they frowned at him. He felt another deep pang of guilt for interrupting, especially so rudely, but he couldn’t take it back or restart the evening’s mood. He winced. “Iwa-chan, I’m sorry for interrupting! We can go—”

“The only place we’re going is back to our fucking apartment, Shittykawa,” Iwa snarled. He stomped away from Tooru to Suga’s bed, evidently to collect his things. Tooru briefly made eye contact with Emika, who looked just as startled by Iwa-chan’s abrupt behavior. Tooru wanted to fix it now more than ever, for the sake of his best friend’s love life.

“Iwa-chaaan!” He wailed. “I said sorry! Just hold on one second…”

“I don’t think so! If my night gets cut short, so does yours,” he declared, shrugging on his jacket. “Besides, Daichi said he’s kicking us out by 12:30 so he can clean before work tomorrow. Might as well get a head start.”

Tooru pouted at his best friend, trying to get him to understand both how unfortunate this was for him and for Emika. He even nodded in her direction when Iwa-chan daned to meet his gaze, to which Iwa just rolled his eyes and swatted at him. “Meet me at the front door in ten minutes. I’ll leave without you.”

He frowned in response. Iwa-chan’s threat was empty on the surface, as he liked to think that Suga would potentially offer his room for him to spend the night. However, Tooru was painfully aware that Iwa was the only one of the pair with a key at the moment and wouldn’t hesitate to keep Tooru locked out until he had cooled down. As tempting as it was to stay here, to explore what he and Suga could have together, he couldn’t take that risk. He sighed mournfully as Suga led him into the hall.

Only the feel of Suga cupping his cheek snapped him out of his wallowing. He lifted his chin to look him in the eyes, only to find him staring with that same confusing expression. He thumbed Tooru’s cheek. “Don’t look so sad, babe. It’s New Year’s.”

Tooru opened his mouth to respond, then closed it. He didn’t know how to explain to Suga everything he was thinking or feeling—he didn’t even completely understand it. Finally, he spilled out, “But now it’s over!”

Suga raised his eyebrows, as if telling Tooru to continue. He broke Suga’s gaze. Staring at Suga’s boots, he mumbled, “How can I not be sad? I’m leaving you, I’m leaving…whatever this is.”

Suga made a small noise. He felt Suga’s thumb stroke his cheek again, and his eyes shot up. “Who said it had to be over?” He breathed. Tooru inhaled sharply.

Ten minutes later, Tooru smiled cheekily as Iwa stormed towards the front door. “I already called the Uber,” he told Iwa as he walked past him, seemingly ignoring his comment. Tooru pouted briefly, but his unhappiness dissipated when he glanced over his shoulder. Suga’s wink made him flustered and frustrated, but excited nonetheless. He winked in return before following Iwa down the hall to wait for their ride back to their apartments.

“Sorry again, Iwa-chan,” Tooru chirped, leaning against his shoulder. Iwa-chan shoved him away roughly. Tooru pouted again and turned to look out the Uber’s window as they pulled away from Suga’s apartment complex. He would have never thought that New Years’ Party would have gone as well as it had…save interrupting Iwa-chan and Emika. He was torn between being ecstatic and guilty—Iwa was ignoring him, but then again, he had Sugawara Koushi’s number in his phone and the taste of his rum on his lips.

After nearly five minutes of total silence, Iwa’s sigh broke the tension. “I’ll only forgive you because I know you didn’t mean it, Trashykawa,” he grumbled, and Tooru cheered, wrapping his arm around Iwa’s bicep in a half-hug.

Reluctantly, Iwa patted his hair before nudging him away. There was a beat of silence before he snorted. “I see I’m not the only one who got some tonight,” he said, smirking at Tooru. He blinked back in confusion. Then, he watched in horror as he realized Iwa-chan’s eyes were fixed on his neck with that knowing smirk. When he and Suga had been in the hallway…surely he hadn’t…

“No!” He wailed. Tooru’s hands flew for his phone. Opening Snapchat, he switched to selfie mode before angling his camera to focus on his collarbone. His mouth dropped open. Sure enough, his neck and collar were dotted with visible bruises. Tooru cursed Sugawara Koushi for what felt like the hundredth time that night. How was he supposed to be in public like this? At volleyball practice? He raked his hands through his hair before moving to his shirt collar, desperately trying to cover them while Iwa-chan howled with laughter. To his horror, he caught their Uber driver chuckling at his misfortunes. He ought to give Suga a piece of his mind about the anguish he’d caused with his sadism.

However, his long-deliberated essay text explaining his woes was instantly forgotten the second his phone lit up. He had just plugged it in to the bedside charger, as he was already tucked in and wearing UFO pj pants, when it flashed his screensaver (his favorite X-files quote) with a notification for a new message from Suga. His heart summersaulted, even though he found the reaction ridiculous. It was just a text, from a guy Tooru didn’t even know he had a real connection with, besides flirting and setting. Still, his fingers tapped the message greedily.

S: hey tooru!! （‐＾▽＾‐) Had a GREAT time reconnecting tonight ;) hope you have sweet dreams and the alcohol wasn’t too much for you <3

Tooru rolled his eyes at the slight dig. The nerve. But he knew he was focusing on that so he could ignore the way the rest of the message made him feel like a middle schooler with a crush. He got butterflies reading it over again, especially when he compared Suga’s emoticon choice to the way he blushed in person. . His fingers tapped the sides of his phone restlessly as he tried to craft a good response. Maybe, “Thanks for getting glitter all over my face” (Because he was covered in it; it was the second thing he noticed in the mirror when he changed, besides the hickeys). He ought to gloat about his alcohol tolerance to even out the competition between them. Tooru sighed, his head hitting the back of his headboard. None of them sufficiently expressed what he was dying to get across: I haven’t felt the way I did tonight in a long time, possibly ever, and I’m dying to see you again.

He typed out a patched-together message, took a swig of water, and hoped for the best.

T: haha as if. I could’ve taken a lot more, if SOMEONE hadn’t kept it all for himself…  
T: and me too. clearly.  
T: hope to see you soon and make you more flustered <3

Tooru’s heart stopped as he watched the three bubbles appear, indicating Suga was typing.

S: lol…it’s so cute you think you can out-flirt me? aww babe (ᗒᗜᗕ)՛̵̖  
S: luckily for you, I also can’t wait to see you try  
S: goodnight!! (°◡°♡).:｡

Tooru fell asleep still smiling the widest he could remember ever grinning, all because of hazel eyes and annoying banter. The New Year was starting out better than he could have ever dreamed.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! Hope you all enjoyed. This is my first Oisuga fic, although I have been trash for this ship for a long time now. I hope that I portrayed these characters well in addition to making you smile. This story warms my heart with its steam, humor, and sentimental moments, and I can't wait for you to read the epilogue/concluding chapter. My tumblr is leovaldezcalypso if you want to send me Oisuga headcanons :)


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